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Back Claws and Crochet Save as PDF
Chapters (69)
  1. Cover
  2. Untitled
  3. CLAWS & CROCHET
  4. NEWSLETTER SIGN UP
  5. CONTENT WARNING
  6. 1
  7. 2
  8. 3
  9. 4
  10. 5
  11. 6
  12. 7
  13. 8
  14. 9
  15. 10
  16. 11
  17. 12
  18. 13
  19. 14
  20. 15
  21. 16
  22. 17
  23. 18
  24. 19
  25. 20
  26. 21
  27. 22
  28. 23
  29. 24
  30. 25
  31. 26
  32. 27
  33. 28
  34. 29
  35. 30
  36. 31
  37. 32
  38. 33
  39. 34
  40. 35
  41. 36
  42. 37
  43. 38
  44. 39
  45. 40
  46. 41
  47. 42
  48. 43
  49. 44
  50. 45
  51. 46
  52. 47
  53. 48
  54. 49
  55. 50
  56. 51
  57. 52
  58. 53
  59. 54
  60. 55
  61. 56
  62. 57
  63. 58. Epilogue
  64. EPILOGUE
  65. VISIT FOLK HAVEN
  66. SEDUCED BY A SELKIE
  67. NEWSLETTER SIGN UP
  68. ALSO BY LAUREN CONNOLLY
  69. ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Of course my friend would feel the need to talk to me about the one topic I’m trying not to focus on. And at a moment when talking normally isn’t encouraged. We’re supposed to be connecting to our animal forms, not having a casual chat.

“Home. Safe.” The growling is in my voice too.

Courtney’s eyes haven’t even turned black yet.

“Home? You think she’s sticking around?”

Because I can’t handle the panic that comes with any other answer, I give the one that will hopefully keep my wolf calm. “Yes.”

Shadows caress my skin as a tension grows. Courtney grins while she watches.

“Glad to hear it. I’ll have to make more of an effort.”

I’m past the point where I can ask what she means. A series of painful snaps shudders through my body like dominoes falling.

Then, my whole view of the world changes.

Thoughts blur into a series of feelings and urges while my senses sharpen. I shake off the tingles of left-behind magic, then recognize the call of my pack leader, mixed with the tease of Mother Moon.

“Run.”

The simple word infuses my limbs, guiding me to fall in and follow. Loose dirt shifts under the heavy weight of my paws as I pick up my pace.

We head away from the makeshift parking lot and let the forest envelop us. Scents flow into me with each of my deep breaths. I want to consume the night, and I can’t help the joyful noises that push from my throat and receive responses from those flanking me.

Even as the thick branches block out the light of the moon, I can feel her glow on my back. She is glorious, giving off pure energy. My muscles surge with the touch of her magic.

My view of myself as an individual blurs until there are only thoughts of us. Thoughts of we. The pack moves as one massive, joyful procession through the night.

A scent drifts on the wind. Musky and warm. Hunger demands I follow, and I am not the only one. The animal flees from our pursuit, but it does not have the blessing of Mother Moon.

Soon, I feast on meat, blood dripping and pooling on the forest floor.

Zoey would hate this part. The thought is a light caress against my mind that drifts away like a breeze ruffling my coat.

My future mate is safe, and I will return to her when this celebration is done.

Belly full, I run again, soon mixing in with my pack.

We hunt and howl and fulfill a deep need in our souls.

The night passes, but I do not count the seconds. Time loses its meaning, and I give myself up to the wolf.

41

ZOEY

The roar of a motorcycle rumbling down Grandma Minnie’s drive has me smiling.